


and other underlying issues

by richardhendricks



Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Gen, M/M, they have a lot of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-02
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:08:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21643456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richardhendricks/pseuds/richardhendricks
Summary: Newt and Hermann argue over a sweater (and other underlying issues).
Relationships: Newton Geiszler & Hermann Gottlieb, Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	and other underlying issues

“ _Hermann_ ,” Newt whined. “I know you’re mad but it’s like, 20 degrees in here and I am _not_ putting that sweater back on.” Hermann closed his eyes to level himself.

“Newton.” Hermann gritted out. “If I recall correctly, you’re the one who punctured that… _creature’s_ bladder with your scalpel, not me. Go get a new jumper or stop complaining.” Rather than giving Hermann a definitive, adult, answer, Newton let out an obnoxious whine.

“I’m not answering that,” Hermann replied, turning back to his own work.

“Oh, but you just did. So try not to act so high-and-mighty, Mr. Four Layers.” Hermann tried not to reply, he really did, but his aggravation got the best of him. He turned back around quickly.

“Are you twelve years old?” Hermann said, hardly keeping his voice down.

“Are you eighty? ‘Cause that sweater vest-parka combo is definitely something my grandpa wore circa World War II.” 

Hermann scoffed. “Your grandfather wasn’t even born until the Cold War.” 

“Yeah, well, if Paw-Paw was here right now, he’d probably say ‘take that parka off and sacrifice it to my favorite grandson.’”

“Favorite? Your brother is nowhere _near_ us, Newton.” Newt gasps in response, clutching a gloved hand to his chest.

“As if you’d ever know what it’s like to be a favorite, you disgusting middle child. Now, gimme your parka or die by my scalpel!” He proceeds to wrap himself around Hermann, who had quietly been making his way over and looked as though he wanted to clobber Newton with his cane. 

“I _will_ submit another formal complaint, you insufferable little man. Now, get _off_ me, or I swear I’ll--” Hermann grunted, giving a firm shove. Newt only squeezed his shoulders firmer, letting him continue to thrash about in his grip. “Newton, you’re being _rather_ immature and I really must--” In a flash, Hermann misstepped and Newt watched in horror as his bad leg faltered and nearly gave out beneath him, Newt’s already overbearingly firm hold instinctively tightening.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry, I’m dumb--” Newt fussed, carefully releasing his grip once Hermann steadied himself and quickly rolled his cushioned office chair out from the desk behind him. Newt, being what some might call an “over-enthusiastic and energetic maniac”, often forgot about his colleague's impairment and went a bit overboard amidst the arguing and teasing.

“Now I’ve got basis to submit another complaint.” Hermann said, sitting down with a huff. “‘Newton has, yet again, used his boisterous and overbearing physicality to put me in danger.’” Hermann said, quoting an HR report they both knew he would never write

“Oh, _please,_ ” Newton replied, brushing himself off as he softly nudges Hermann further into the chair. “The HR department stopped opening any of your complaints _years ago_.”

Hermann simply scoffed in frustration, upset that he was losing their argument (yet again—Newton had more wit than the average erratic biologist). 

“And how exactly do you think mocking me is going to get you any closer to obtaining my sweater?” 

“Hermieeeee…” Newt whined impatiently, walking circles around and the office chair that Hermann glared up at him from while it spun. The stubborn man refused to give into Newt’s pestering and continued spin in silence while massaging his leg. “Hermann. Herm. Dr. Gottlieb. Hermann Got The Lab,” he pauses from listing off various nicknames, needing to take a moment to think about how brilliant he was for coming up with Hermann Got The Lab. 

“Hermann. Bro. My partner in science and sometimes lunch breaks. Won’t you just be a sweetheart and give me your parka? You’ve got, like, 4 other layers under that—” Hermann suddenly fixed Newt with an angry glare, startling Newt out of his train of thought.

“ _Newton_.” He hissed in that “now you’ve really done it” voice, much to Newt’s confusion. That voice was usually reserved for contamination or broken equipment, not petty arguments about winter jackets.

“Uhh… yeah?” 

“What is the _matter_ with you? Can’t you take _no_ for an answer?” Newt’s eyebrows shot straight up, the rest of his face unmoving. 

“Man, are we fighting again? Is that what this is? I thought we were having a pretty good time just now,” he deadpanned, already shifting into his defensive argument-with-Hermann mode; they’d done this a plethora of times before, it was hardly anything new-- Newt acts dismissive until Hermann gets bothered enough to make a personal jab at him, Newt’s voice gets all loud and screechy, the occasional glove or piece of chalk is thrown; they ignore each other until lunch, which they always take together, even if they’re still too mad to speak.

“I don’t care to discuss it, Newton. Just leave it be so we can both get back to work.” Newt scrunched his face up in an equal combination of confusion and displeasure-- this wasn’t what they usually did. Hermann never turned down a chance to argue with Newt. On the contrary, he more often than not was the one who started these squabbles.

“Now, don’t get all hissy with me, alright? You totally spurred me on! You can’t just joke around with me and then, like, decide to go back to being grumpy and get mad at me for not reading your mind.” Newt prodded. 

“Well, I don’t see why not, seeing how you decide to launch into one of your incessantly annoying... _pestering sessions_ at any given time.” Hermann replied condescendingly.

“Pestering-- we were _talking_! We were having a human discussion that happened to involve your sweater!”

“Does it matter? Why are you being more difficult than usual about my not giving you _my_ sweater?”

“Because it isn’t about your stupid sweater, okay?” Newt shouted, his hands flailing in the air as he attempted to form words in his rage. “I just wanted you to, like, do something nice for me, but since I apparently have to beg for a human kindness, I’ll just drop it!” The declaration seemed to echo through the lab as the silence thrummed on. Realising Hermann had nothing to say, Newt marched back to his dissection table and angrily snapped his gloves on, nearly ripping a hole in one of the fingers. After 10 or so minutes filled with nothing but the quiet clicking of chalk and the occasional angered huff or stomp from Newt, the tense, cold air seems to become unbearable to Hermann.

“Newton,” Hermann sighs in defeat. Newt does not respond. “Newton.” Hermann said once again, firmly. 

“What?” Newt snapped back. “I thought you wanted _quiet_.” He hissed, angrily attacking his specimen. 

“I did—do—but I was simply… wondering if—well, if that’s how you really feel.” Newt’s face scrunched up in confusion. “The— what you said before, about… erm, human kindness, I think you said?” In an instant, Newt’s face turned away from view, though Hermann didn’t miss his blush. 

“That’s just—I meant, like—I just—“ He took a deep breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the action. “It doesn’t matter, alright? It was dumb.” He was now removing his gloves. “Let’s just forget about it, okay? You don’t want me dirtying up your coat, or whatever. I get it. It’s fine.”

“Newt—” Hermann started, reaching an arm out to try and ground Newton, who was beginning to spiral. 

“ _It’s fine._ ” Newt repeated as he shrugged Hermann’s hand away, his voice an angry and clear indication that it was not, in fact, fine. “I’m taking my break. I’m…” He silently worked his jaw, his eyes darting across the floor nervously before he settled on what to say— “I’ll see you later.” Before Hermann could think of a competent response, Newton had rushed past him and out the door. Hermann sighed in the silence, dragging a hand down his face. They always took it too far— these fights had become exhausting on both sides. 

His hand idly slid past his eyes to cup the bottom of his face. When his eyes flickered open, a paper on his desk caught his eye— “Yes,” he muttered to himself, “Yes, this might work…” he continued as he pulled the paper toward him and began furiously filling out the report. Within the hour, he completed the sheet, placed it in the middle of the chaos of Newt’s desk, and anxiously took to copying useless equations onto his chalkboard. 

Newton re-entered soon after, his steps subdued, his posture less confident than usual. Out of the corner of his eye, Hermann watched him as he made his way toward his desk and spotted the bright white report on the center. He furrowed his brows and snatched it up to read it closer—

“An HR complaint?” He deadpanned, looking up to Hermann. “Seriously, dude? I thought you were over that crap—“

“Oh, hush up and read it.” Hermann snapped, already failing to be kind. Newt merely huffed and screwed his face up once more to read the report. 

“ _HR Complaint Form,”_ He read aloud. _“State the full name of the person filing complaint—“_ Hermann flushed.

“Er, I didn’t mean out loud—“

“‘Oh, hush up,’” Mocked Newt. Hermann fell silent as Newt returned to the paper. _“State the full name of the person filing complaint,”_ he repeated. _“Newton Geiszler,”_ he read off, looking thoroughly confused. He looked up toward Hermann, opening his mouth to point out Hermann’s flaw, but was only met with a firm glare that seemed to say “don’t try it”. Newton wisely decided to continue, clearing his throat. 

“Right, uhh… _state the nature of the complaint.”_ Newt scanned over the next set of words, a small, humored smile pulling on his lips, before saying them aloud; “ _emotionally incompetent co-worker selfishly refuses to help, again._ ” Hermann rolled his eyes, fiercely resisting his own smile. “ _State the full name of the person against whom the complaint is made; Dr. Hermann Gottlieb_.” Newt paused, squinting at the paper. “How come it says Dr. Hermann but not Dr. Newton—“

“I am trying my hardest to be kind, Newton, do not push it.” Hermann rebutted, though his tone was light. 

“I dunno, man, this nice stuff seems to be pretty easy for you…” Newt teased, his eyes searching the paper for where he left off. “ _Main points of allegation; One, Dr. Gottlieb selfishly did not lend a sweater to myself, Newton Geiszler, even though I (Newton Geiszler) was cold.”_ Newt seemed completely delighted over Hermann’s awkward writings, unlike Hermann himself, who had made the internal decision to glare at Newt’s shoes in a poor attempt to keep the blood from rushing to his face. “ _Two, Dr. Gottlieb has a history of being quite friendless, and_ , uhh…” Newt trailed off, the bemused smile leaving his face. “ _And is not very good at keeping them, and letting them keep him_.” Hermann wanted so badly to glance up at his face, to perhaps see what he thought of this whole embarrassingly emotional display, but he knew the letter was not yet finished and resigned himself to continue staring and Newt’s scuffed-up boots. 

“ _The effect on the person filing the complaint; I (Newton) feel as though Dr. Gottlieb is not,_ um _, fond of me, which is… very far from the truth.”_ Hermann began picking at the lint on his blazer, though his gaze did not drift from the scuffed Doc Martens. “Um, _Any additional information; Dr. Gottlieb did not,_ uh, _did not intend to hurt Newton in the withholding of his resources.”_ Hermann gathered his courage and looked up, briefly meeting Newt’s eyes before he continued to read off; “ _I’m_ _terribly, truly sorry for the harm I may have caused— with this incident and any other past conflicts we have had.”_ Newt chewed his lip, staring at the bottom of the page. 

“Flip it,” Hermann said, his voice far softer than what Newt was used to hearing from him. Newt didn’t even glance up before flipping the paper over and continuing. 

“ _I care about you, though I may not show it.”_ Another pause; Hermann clenched his jaw and fists to ward off his instincts that screamed to look away and to run— this could very well be the first and last time Hermann bore his own emotions so fully to another person. Newt continued. “ _There are many things I could say about what I feel for you, but I am quite certain you know these things already, or will come to know them soon, so I will just leave you with this; I’ve never felt something as strong as what it is… I feel for you.”_ Newt looked up, eyes wide, expression unreadable. Hermann’s face remained as neutral as possible, but it was difficult to will the terror out of his eyes. Newt’s eyes returned downwards to read the final line. “ _I do sincerely hope we may move past this, and I will do my best to amend my ways.”_ He then stared at the blank signature box, his face still relatively blank, though he was obviously thinking hard. Hermann gave a small cough. 

“Well,” Hermann said stiffly, remaining as monotone as possible. “I do hope you don’t intend to submit that, because I am certainly not going through _that_ again.” Newt, who had still not looked up, scanned his eyes up and down the back page once more before locking eyes with Hermann. 

“Nah, I don’t think I will,” he said casually, as though Hermann hadn’t just bared his entire soul to him for the first time in six years. “I don’t think I have anything to complain about,” he said, a grin slowly spreading across his face— “Unless you still aren’t giving me that sweater, in which case, I totally am.” Hermann returned the grim happily before tugging the sweater over his head and tossing it right in Newt’s annoyingly smug face. 


End file.
